Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

The agent nodded.

Molly appeared from somewhere, a bag in her hand. “Towels, toiletries. Change of clothes for you both.”

Riley stared at her. “When did you…?”

“Liam sent me.”

A wet fist of tears squeezed in her chest.

Molly squeezed her arm. “Go on. Get cleaned up, sweetheart.”

Liam took the bag and led her upstairs. “There’s nowhere for you to lay down, but at least you can get clean.”

Riley couldn’t speak around the fist, so she just nodded and followed him into the bathroom. He emptied the bag, neatly laying out towels and clothes on the counter, putting soap, shampoo, and conditioner on the edge of the tub. Quick, efficient, he turned on the water, adjusted the temperature.

“Arms up.” With minimal help from her, he stripped off her bloody clothes with equal efficiency. “In you go.” He handed her into the tub, waiting until he was satisfied she had her legs before letting go of her hand. “I’ll be right outside.”

“Thanks.”

He pulled the curtain to. She heard the quiet close of the door. He wouldn’t go far. There was extraordinary comfort in that. In knowing that, when it mattered, he stuck, whether she was being difficult or not.

She stepped beneath the spray, wanting at once to shrink back and lose herself in the steady fall of water. Her body shook, cold down to the bone. Even knowing it was shock, she dialed the temperature almost to scalding. Water sluiced down her body, pooling pink at her feet before circling down the drain. That had so very nearly been her blood. And for what? The thief had gotten away. He’d be caught—the epinephrine should’ve messed him up enough. But the drugs were gone. With everything else—her business wouldn’t be far behind. And then what?

She’d spent her life scrimping, saving, and clawing her way out of the debt incurred after her father’s death. The thought of having to start over, of having to do that again, without a a job, without prospects, had the fist in her chest clamping down to the point of pain, squeezing her heart, closing her throat. What pharmacy would hire a pharmacist who ran her own pharmacy into the ground? What was she going to do?

A sob wrenched free of her constricted throat. Bracing her hands against the wall, she fought to hold back the panic bubbling up in her chest as the brutally hot water beat down on her. Instead, another wounded animal sound spilled out.

The curtain was ripped back.

Before she could get a scream out, Liam was stepping into the shower, clothes and all, pulling her into his arms, tucking her against chest. “I’ve got you.”

He was strong, capable, and in control. Everything she hadn’t been since her world started spinning off its axis. He was her port in the storm, and she was tired, so goddamned tired, of rejecting that gift on the grounds of some stupid personal principle. She needed him. As the shower continued to pound on her back and steam rose around them, Riley pressed her face into his throat and let herself fall to pieces.

The water had gone to lukewarm by the time she quieted. Without letting her go, Liam reached past her to grab the soap. Throat raw, feeling weak as a newborn kitten, she stood as he gently scrubbed away the last signs of violence. It was an intimacy so different from being lovers. In bed, she felt they were on even ground—giving, taking. But th

is, this, for her, was a deeper trust.

Liam helped her out of the shower, wrapping her in one of the big fluffy towels. She drew the line at letting him dress her again, and took over the drying herself.

He stripped out of his own wet clothes, reaching for the other towel.

She squeezed the towel tight beneath her chin. “I’m sorry.”

Irritation flashed in his eyes. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I do. I over-reacted.”

“We don’t have to talk about this now.”

“I need to get this out. I need to, at least, explain why this is important to me.”

“Okay. But I have an apology of my own. I’m sorry I went behind your back on the apartment for your mom. She and I made arrangements for her to pay me back, and to my mind that made it okay. It wasn’t meant to subvert you, and it wasn’t her manipulating me. I saw a chance to do something that would make life easier on you. Getting your own space back, seeing her out on her own lessened some of your stress. I couldn’t not do that when it was within my means. But I should’ve told you.”

The dry clothes she slipped on were some of his. “I understand why you didn’t. You knew I’d fight you about it.”

“Yeah.”

“I hurt you today, and I never wanted that. You’ve given me so much, and I’ve been so ungrateful.”